Wednesday, February 28, 2018

I’ve
previously shared part
of the first chapter from The Mad Monk’s Treasure, as well as the opening
and a
later excerpt from The Dead Man’s Treasure. These novels are part of my
Southwest Treasure Hunters collection. Each novel stands alone in this series
mixing action and adventure with romance. Today’s excerpt is from the third
book:

The Skeleton Canyon Treasure

When Camille Dagneau surprises a strange man in the college
machine shop she runs, she is ready for battle. Ryan MacAllister seems equally
suspicious of her, but he insists he’s merely looking for his missing uncle,
who has disappeared while hunting for a lost treasure. He believes Camie is the
key to finding the treasure, and his uncle. But Camie – beautiful, brilliant,
and prickly – isn’t about to trust this oversized geologist, or the attraction
she feels.

Following the clues in the missing man’s journal will take
Camie, Ryan, and the cat Tiger on a trail through New Mexico and Arizona.
They’ll visit the Tombstone graveyard at night, uncover clues in museums, and
ultimately wind up in Skeleton Canyon, where rumor says nineteenth-century
cowboy bandits secreted their treasure in a cave. To rescue Ryan’s uncle,
they’ll face steep cliffs, twisty tunnels, and worse dangers in human form, but
trusting each other may be the biggest challenge. And they’re running out of
time ….

Camie let herself
into the darkened building, reveling in the silence. At 10 PM on a Friday, the
engineering department was abandoned, exactly the way she liked it. A few hours
of work without distractions and she’d get her invention running.

A faint light shone
in the darkened hallway. The glow spilled through the small square of glass in
her door, a warning beacon coming from inside her machine shop. She
hesitated. Had she forgotten to turn off the light when she left for dinner?
Plausible but unlikely. Slapping the light switch on the way out was habit, and
she’d been extra careful since the break-in a few nights earlier.

The Skeleton Canyon Treasure visits Tombstone, AZ

A few other people
had keys to the college machine shop, but the cleaning staff would be long
gone, and her student interns spent Friday nights at the bar. Camie returned
after hours to work on her own projects because inspiration required solitude.
So why was her light on?

She crept forward,
as silent as the sleeping building around her. The ten-inch window was cloudy
with age and threaded with wire mesh, but it didn’t completely hide the sight
within. A large man stood on the far side of the room, hunched over one of her
workbenches. She didn’t recognize him. Easily several inches over six feet and
a good 220 pounds of mostly muscle, he would stand out in any crowd. Among the
young geniuses of a science and engineering college, he was a mountain lion
among prairie dogs.

Her eyes narrowed
and she gave a low growl. What was he doing here, in her machine shop, messing
with her equipment? He had to be connected to the earlier theft. Why would he
come back when he already had her invention? He couldn’t know she’d already
started rebuilding it. Maybe he wanted to steal her notes and the provisional
patent application forms. Without them, she’d have a much harder time proving
she’d been the original inventor.

She considered her
options, calling campus security or the police being the most obvious. Campus
security would be faster, but the police would have guns. Problem was, she’d
left her phone inside the machine shop. She’d have to leave to find another
phone, and he might escape in the meantime, with her notes, and the new version
of her device. She didn’t trust the authorities to track him down once he got
out of the building. More likely they’d take a report and do nothing. And she
did not want to start over from scratch yet again.

And then the man
actually reached out and picked up her baby, her new version of the invention,
only partway rebuilt. All thought of options and smart choices vanished.

She barreled
through the door.

The man spun
around, still holding her machine. At least he didn’t drop it, and his hands
were occupied so he couldn’t easily go for a weapon. But if he tried to get
past her, she’d have to risk damaging her invention in order to stop him.

He gaped at her,
several expressions flitting across his face as if unsure which one belonged.
Finally he settled into a cocky grin. It didn’t make him good looking. But
despite his size and her own keyed-up nerves, she didn’t get a sense of threat.
She was usually good at reading people that way.

Still, she didn’t
relax. “Well?”He looked
momentarily startled. What kind of greeting had he expected, a warm welcome?

Visit all the Book Hooks from
#MFRWHooks - You might find your next great read!

Kris Bock writes novels of suspense and romance
with outdoor adventures and Southwestern landscapes. Whispers in the
Dark features archaeology and intrigue among ancient Southwest
ruins. What We Found is a mystery with strong romantic
elements about a young woman who finds a murder victim in the woods. In Counterfeits,
stolen Rembrandt paintings bring danger to a small New Mexico town.

The Mad Monk’s Treasure follows the hunt for a long-lost treasure in the New Mexico
desert. In The Dead Man’s Treasure, estranged relatives compete to
reach a buried treasure by following a series of complex clues. In The
Skeleton Canyon Treasure, sparks fly when reader favorites Camie and Tiger
help a mysterious man track down his missing uncle.

When their
grandfather dies, the Lindquist sisters, Harper, Scarlet and Maggie, inherit
the northern Minnesota fishing lodge that had been in their family for three
generations. The inheritance is bittersweet. They were raised at the lodge by
their grandparents. The natural beauty of the place hasn’t changed, but the
building itself is crumbling and desperately in need of repair. The lodge also reminds
them of what they lost. Twenty-two years previously, their parents died there
in what was ruled a murder/suicide.

As the sisters struggle to breathe new life
into the failing lodge, old fears and questions rise to the surface even as new
love presents itself. Why did their father murder their mother? What truths did
their grandparents keep from them? The sisters must fight to keep the wounds of
the past from putting their futures, and their fledgling relationships, in
jeopardy.

Lies and Solace:

She can’t live with one more lie. He can’t tell the
truth.

Harper Lindquist is convinced she’s found the answer
to her financial prayers. Unless she pours cash into crumbling Solace Lake
Lodge, she’ll lose her family’s legacy. Her would-be savior arrives in the
middle of a Minnesota blizzard and she’s determined to prove to her reluctant,
and trapped, financier the lodge is a sound investment. But Harper isn’t
completely honest with him. And she has no idea the lake is hiding secrets of
its own.

Ethan James is a liar, but his money is very real. He isn’t convinced a
broken-down inn is a smart investment opportunity. But the more he understands
Harper’s dreams and desires, the more he wants to be the man to make them come
true. The trauma in both their pasts means neither can fully trust the other.
They must find the courage to love, to trust, and to accept, or yesterday’s
sorrows will keep them apart.

She’d just placed the last dish
onthe drain board when Ethan entered the
kitchen, his hair still damp from his shower. He’d shaved with the razor she’d
found for him and was wearing his own clothes again.Once more the elegant, well-dressed businessman. The chasm grewbetween them even as he stood in her kitchen. She
was stupid to believe there could ever be anything aside from business between
them.

She lifted her chin, determined
not to let her façade slip. “I’ve gathered all my estimates and drawings and
put them in a bag so you can take them with you.”

“I appreciate that.”

They walked together to the
front door,and Harper lifted his beautiful
overcoat from the coat tree. It still held the scent of his after-shave,and she had to resist the urge to raise it to her
nose and breathe it in. Instead,she held it
out to him with a forced smile. “Have a safe trip back to Minneapolis, Ethan.”

“Thanks.” He took the coat from
her and slipped it on. “I want to thank you for your hospitality.”

“It was my pleasure.”

So formal. But it was the only
way she could get through the next few minutes.

He picked up the cloth bag with
all her information on the renovation project. “Goodbye, Harper. I’ll be in
touch soon.”

“Goodbye.”She shook his outstretched hand briefly.

He opened the front door and
headed toward his truck. Harper grabbed a sweater from the coat tree and stood
in the open doorway watching him leave, not quite able to shut the door on him
despite the biting cold.

Halfway to the truck, Ethan
stopped. For a second,he stood completely
still, his head bowed. Then he dropped the bag, turned on his heel, and walked
back to her, his steps full of purpose.

“Did you forget something?”

“Yeah.”

He pulled her into his arms,
his mouth descending on hers with an urgency that set her blood on fire. She
moaned as she molded herself against him, her arms winding around his neck, her
fingers tangling in his damp hair. He swept her mouth with his tongue,
demanding a response. She gave herself over to his kiss, loving the sweet taste
of his mouth, the clean smell of his skin, the solid feel of his body.

All too soon he broke the kiss.
He grasped her shoulders and pushedaway
from her, breathing hard. She searched his facefor
answers.

“I have to go,” he said. “I’ll
call you soon.”

She nodded, unable to speak. He
released her and walked backto his truck.
No longer sheltered in his arms, the bitter cold swept through her. She pulled
her sweater more securely around her shoulders.

Harper watched Ethan pull out
of the driveway, her heart racing. When she could no longer see his truck, she
closed the front door and leaned against it. The taste of him remained on her
tongue and she could still smell his clean scent. Excitement and fear danced up
and down her spine, fighting a duel inside her to decide which one ruled
supreme.

Fear won. In one way or
another, everyone she’d ever cared about had left her. She couldn’t bear for
Ethan to be one more person on that list.

When Jana
Richards read her first romance novel, she immediately knew two things: she
had to commit the stories running through her head to paper, and they had to
end with a happily ever after. She also knew she’d found what she was meant to
do. Since then she’s never met a romance genre she didn’t like. She writes
contemporary romance, romantic suspense, and historical romance set in World
War Two, in lengths ranging from short story to full length novel. Just for
fun, she throws in generous helpings of humor, and the occasional dash of the
paranormal. Her paranormal romantic suspense “Seeing Things” was a 2008 EPPIE
finalist.

In her life away from writing, Jana is an
accountant/admin assistant, a mother to two grown daughters, and a wife to her
husband Warren. She enjoys golf, yoga, movies, concerts, travel and reading,
not necessarily in that order. She and her husband live in Winnipeg, Canada
with their Pug/Terrier cross Lou and several unnamed goldfish. She loves to
hear from readers and can be reached through her website at www.janarichards.com

Friday, February 23, 2018

Brie
Sullivan has a new baby girl and there are a million things to do, but Brie
doesn’t have the energy to keep up. Why? She’s still grieving for her husband
and suffering from baby blues, but she won’t let that stop her. She’s come up
with the answer—find a new husband to be the father of her kids.

Jason
Clark has been doing everything he can to help Brie. He loves her but can he
accept her proposal of marriage knowing she’s not thinking clearly about the
future?

Comments
from Reviews for IT Exec’s Baby (2nd book of the Executive Wives Club series)

“IT Exec’s Baby is almost a love story in
reverse. The marriage comes first, then the sex, and finally the love – at
least from Brie's point of view. It is tender and poignant at times, and full
of strong descriptive passages.”

“What
I love about series books. Every book gives you more about the characters that
you've fallen in love with during the first book.”

“IT
Exec’s Baby is a riveting story of a woman with numerous problems.”

Excerpt:

With
the warmth of the sun beating down on her head and the sound of her children’s
laughter ringing in her ears, Brie spread her arms and spun in a circle.

She
raised her voice and called to her kids as she walked to the railing of the
upper deck. “You better find a good hiding place because ready or not here I
come.”

With
Isabella down for a nap, Brie drew in a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air and
the freedom from being stuck inside the house. The kids had convinced her to
play with them outside. She loved the easy game of hide-and-go-seek. Glancing
over the rail, she scanned the backyard, searching for Ethan’s and Allison’s
young forms.

A
giggle sounded from below the deck.

Brie
stepped down a few stairs to search the patio below. Still unable to catch a
glimpse of her children, she continued down the staircase, listening for sounds
that might give her a clue to their whereabouts.

Not
seeing either one of them, she hugged the back wall and silently slipped to the
corner of the house that had concrete steps, which led to the front yard.

Determined
to catch one of her kids heading for home-base, Brie refrained from peeking
around the corner. The squeak of a tennis shoe alerted her to someone’s
arrival.

Ready
to grab them the minute they rounded the corner, Brie stayed out of sight. A
shadow fell across the patio, and Allison’s young form raced past.

Jumping
out to grab her, Brie touched her daughter’s shoulder.

Allison’s
wail of surprise vibrated off the bottom of the deck and pierced through Brie’s
brain. Undeterred by the noise, she caught her daughter’s arm and spun her
around.

Wednesday, February 21, 2018

Rebecca’s hand shook as she reached for the box. It was a
metal candy tin for peppermint bark. Maybe Grandpa had a sweet tooth? Or was
this some random trash left by a tourist too lazy to bring it back to his car?
She straightened and gazed down at the box. It had to hold the next clue. It
would be too much of a coincidence – and too heartbreaking – if it were
anything else.

She glanced at Sam and he nodded in encouragement, drawing
close to her side. She swung open the lid. Several folded pieces of paper lay
inside. A strip of masking tape on the inside lid had words in marker: “Take
one and leave the others unless you are the last.”

Rebecca pulled out the top piece of paper and unfolded it.

Are they witches in disguise

Or prophets of the future?

The men who came here didn’t know.

They had destruction on their minds.

And they changed the world.

They ate of the flesh among bombers and bullets.

And so should you!

Then past the dead soldiers you’ll find a dead end.

One is the loneliest number

Walled off from its fellows.

Pay your respects and do not forget.

Another baffling poem. Rebecca wrinkled her nose. “This
one’s kind of gruesome.” She closed the box and stood.

For a moment, the world spun. She took a quick breath.

Sam’s arm came around her. “Okay?”

Two more deep breaths and she could answer. “Fine now,
thanks. Just a little lightheaded.” She was tempted to lean into him, to relax
against his shoulder. She resisted the urge. “I know, I know, drink water. Let
me put this back.”

She returned the box to its hiding place, picked up the
bottle she’d set down while looking at the clue, and finished the water. Sam
hovered closely, as if to support her if she needed help. She couldn’t quite
decide if she wished she needed help or was glad she didn’t. She wouldn’t fake
helplessness, though, and the weakness had passed.

She gave Sam a bright smile. “All better now. I just stood
up too fast.”

He studied her intently. She hadn’t realized how green his
eyes were, or how the tiny laugh lines around them made him both sexy and
approachable. Her heart thudded in her chest. You keep looking at me like that, and I won’t be fine.

The Dead Man’s Treasure

Rebecca Westin is shocked to learn the grandfather she never
knew has left her a bona fide buried treasure – but only if she can decipher a
complex series of clues leading to it. The hunt would be challenging enough
without interference from her half-siblings, who are determined to find the
treasure first and keep it for themselves. Good thing Rebecca has recruited
some help.

Sam is determined to show Rebecca that a desert adventure
can be sexy and fun. But there’s a treacherous wildcard in the mix, a man
willing to do anything to get that treasure – and revenge.

Action and romance combine in this lively Southwestern
adventure, complete with riddles the reader is invited to solve to identify
historical and cultural sites around New Mexico.

“I love that the author makes this book
interactive – if the reader wants it to be. You can go online and download a
printable copy of the treasure map and try to decipher the clues yourself. I
found that it be a fun addition to the book, plus you'll also get awesome Southwestern
recipes. … The Dead Man’s Treasure is fast-paced and a perfect read for the
weekend. I highly recommend this one.” – blogger Amy Brantley

This is a blog hop – Visit all the Book Hooks from
#MFRWHooks - You might find your next great read!

Kris Bock writes novels of suspense and romance with outdoor adventures and
Southwestern landscapes. The Mad Monk’s
Treasure is the first of the Southwest Treasure Hunters novels. The Dead Man’s Treasure is book 2 and The Skeleton Canyon Treasure is book 3.
Each novel stands alone and is complete, with no cliffhangers. This series mixes
action and adventure with light romance. The stories explore the Southwest,
especially New Mexico.

Monday, February 19, 2018

My guest today is Diana Rubino, sharing a story close to her heart. Doesn't it sound great?

ONEY, MY ESCAPE FROM SLAVERY

by Diana Rubino and Piper Huguley

Oney’s Story…

Teenaged Oney Judge was Martha Washington’s ‘favorite
servant.’ Oney and Martha both longed for freedom, but in very different ways.
Martha hated being confined to the president’s house, forced to entertain
politicians and foreign diplomats. Oney hated being someone else’s property,
forced to do labor and wait on her owners day and night.

After President Washington served one term as president, he
wrote his farewell speech. He and Martha started packing for their retirement
at Mount Vernon, but it was not meant to be. He was elected again—unanimously.
He did not want to serve another term, but gave in under pressure.

Martha had no say in it whatsoever. But as she hosted her tea
parties and levees, she became close friends with several forward-thinking
women, such as Abigail Adams and Judith Murray, feminists of the time. Their
radical ideas rubbed off on Martha—education and job training for women to be
self-supporting instead of depending on husbands. By the end of George’s term,
she experienced a steep character arc. She even changed her attitude toward
slavery. When Oney escaped at age 20, at the end of George’s final term, Martha
was very resentful: “She was more like a child to me than a servant.” The
Washingtons knew that she’d escaped to Portsmouth, New Hampshire and made
several attempts to recapture her. But in a sudden act of lenience, Martha gave
up on Oney and let her remain free. During her husband’s presidency, Martha
complained, “I am more like a state prisoner”, so perhaps she put herself in
Oney’s place and realized she deserved liberty, too.

As our first First Lady, Martha Washington evolved from a grandmotherly
wife and homebody to an outspoken champion of women’s rights. She provided
freedom for her slaves at her death.

While living in Portsmouth, Oney married a sailor, Jack
Staines, and had three children. She outlived her husband and children, and
lived her remaining free life in Greenland, New Hampshire. Somewhat of a local
celebrity, she lived in poverty, but the locals supported her and she took in
sewing to supplement her meager income. She declared in an 1847 interview, “I
am free now and choose to remain so.”

An Excerpt from ONEY, MY ESCAPE FROM SLAVERY

The hour finally came—while they
ate dinner.

Nothing heavied my heart—not remorse, not guilt, not sadness
upon fleeing my master and mistress. Raw thirst for freedom overcame all that.
I walked straight past the Washingtons
and out that door. When I shut it, I left them—and my forced bondage— behind
me.

I tore through the muddy streets in pouring rain. Gasping
for breath, soaked to the skin, my heart slamming in terror, I glanced behind
me, again and again. No one pursued me—yet. I dreaded and expected pounding
footsteps, a clap on my shoulder. But,
I asked myself, who would chase me
through the driving rain? No, it is not possible, I affirmed—they didn’t
even know I’d left the kitchen.

At the Jones house I slowed and caught my breath. When
Absalom opened the door, I staggered inside, laughing, sobbing, gulping for
dear life.

I spent the night pacing the attic room, hands clasped. “I
beg of you, dear God, walk beside me on this journey. See me through this safe.
Don’t let them capture me. I only want to be your servant, no one else’s.”

As daybreak nudged away the darkness, I fell to my knees,
weary with fatigue. “Thank you, dear God, for ending my final night of bondage.”

Serendipity at Work

In May 2014, popular romance author Brenda Novak had her
annual auction for diabetes—authors donate books, critiques, etc., and people
bid on them, similar to Ebay. I donated one of my other books, and I also
donated a free manuscript critique. An author named Piper Huguley won the critique
auction, but the auction ended and I never heard from her. I thought oh, well,
she doesn’t want it after all. About 3 months later, she wrote me and sent me
her story, A CHAMPION’S HEART, to critique. It’s a romance about an African
American girl, set in rural Georgia in the 1910s. Very moving and powerful
story. I loved it. It was published in 2016 by Liliaceae Publishers.

I’d been wanting to find an African American author to go
over my Oney novel, but never looked for anyone. I thought of asking one of my
grade school classmates, but just didn’t get to it...well, one day I decided to
ask Piper.

Right after I asked her, she wrote back and said she’d be
happy to help. Then I went on Facebook and saw that Piper just posted that her
mother passed away that morning. So I sent her a message of condolence. Then
she wrote this back to me:

And I appreciate your kind comments about my mother. You see, I see your
request as “heaven sent” for I think I told you about how my mother told me
about Oney. I know that she would want me to work on anything, do anything to
forward that story. So, even in the midst of a difficult time, I look forward
to helping you—something I really didn’t expect after you had helped me so
much. Thank you for that.

I don’t remember her telling me that her mother told her about Oney. I’ve
heard so many stories about people who pass away, and send ‘signs’ etc. to
their loved ones, this was just too strange to be coincidence. Piper helped me
a great deal with Oney’s story and became my co-author. We dedicated the book
to her mother.

Diana writes about folks who shook things up. Her passion
for history and travel has taken her to every locale of her stories, set in
Medieval and Renaissance England, Egypt, the Mediterranean, colonial Virginia,
New England, and New York. Her urban fantasy romance FAKIN’ IT won a Top Pick
award from Romantic Times. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, the
Richard III Society and the Aaron Burr Association. When not writing, she runs
CostPro, Inc., an engineering business, with her husband Chris. In her spare
time, Diana bicycles, golfs, plays her piano and devours books of any genre.
She spends as much time as possible just livin’ the dream on her beloved Cape
Cod.

Piper Huguley is a two-time Golden Heart ®finalist and is
the author of the “Home to Milford College” series. The series follows the
building of a college from its founding in 1866. Book #1 in the series, The Preacher’s Promise was named a top
ten Historical Romance in Publisher’s Weekly by the esteemed historical romance
author, Beverly Jenkins and received Honorable Mention in the Writer’s Digest
Contest of Self-Published e-books in 2015. Her new series “Born to Win Men”
starts with A Champion’s Heart as
Book #1. A Champion’s Heart was named
by Sarah MacLean of The Washington Post
as a best romance novel selection for December 2016. She blogs about the
history behind her novels at http://piperhuguley.com.
She lives in Atlanta, Georgia with her husband and son.

Friday, February 16, 2018

People from all over the world travel to Bandera and stay at
dude/guest ranches to experience Texas.

Bandera is Spanish for “banner” or “flag”

St. Stanislaus Catholic Church in Bandera is the 2nd oldest
Polish church in the United States.

Although I visited Bandera as a child with my grandparents,
I did not return to that area until 2001 for a book signing. However, since
2010, I have lived and worked at the Silver Spur guest ranch in Bandera, Texas
for months at a time.

Tempered Series Bundle:

Now all 4 titles in the
Tempered Series by Pamela S Thibodeaux are combined into a single book along
with a bonus short story and a sneak peek into #5 in the series Tempered Truth
(coming sometime in the near future)!

“I’m Katrina. I’ll be your...” her voice trailed off
as she gazed into the sparkling eyes of Dr. Scott Hensley.

Scott grinned, surprised and pleased to have finally
run into her. He’d often wondered and prayed that he would. “You’ll be my
what?”

His eyes
shone with mischief, his voice lowered to a husky tone. Trina flushed.
Everything about his presence made her nerves hum. “Waitress,” she managed on a
suddenly dry throat.

“How’ve you been?”

She smiled. “Okay, busy. May I get you something?”

“Bourbon and water. Alternate that with a coke. Oh, in
case I forget,” he stopped her hasty retreat with a wink. “Two’s my limit.”
Katrina laughed. The silky, tinkling sound made Scott think of wind chimes.

“You don’t seem like the type to forget anything,” she
remarked.

Know it, Sweetheart, he thought as she walked away,
the subtle sway of hips crowding his mind.

Craig
paused at the barn entrance. “I wonder what he wants,” he muttered. It hadn’t
set well with him that the boy didn’t introduce himself the day he brought
Amber home from school, nor had he made a point to do so since. And it irritated
him royally that Amber walked around singing some long-forgotten Carpenter’s
song about a guy with ‘gold dust in his
hair and golden starlight in his eyes of blue.’ She used to hate that song,
always said it was corny.

He
hated it now.

“He
probably wants the same thing you wanted at his age,” Tamera teased, seeing his
eyes darken and jaw harden.

“That’s
not funny, Temper. When I was his age I had a truckload of responsibility on my
shoulders. I didn’t have time to court a girl without the thought of meeting
her parents.”

“Court?”
Tamera laughed, rolling her eyes. “Is that what you call it?” she shook her
head. “I swear, sometimes I think you were born in the wrong century.”

Rafe
Judson made his way to the arena with a smile on his lips, a song in his heart,
and the same old limp in his stride. An ex-bull-rider, he still loved
everything about the rodeo…the scents—the hay, the horseflesh, the sweat—the
excitement, the crowds. As a minister, he didn’t enjoy the accidents or the
deaths. He could do without a lot of the language, too.

Remember where you came from old boy.

The
thought brought with it a quick stab of conviction.

I remember, Lord.

Wasn’t
so long ago he'd cussed and caroused along with the other cowboys. But all that
changed with the accident that ended his career as a champion rodeo rider, but
opened a whole new world to him, a world filled with faith and optimism.

Author bio: Award-winning author,
Pamela S. Thibodeaux is the Co-Founder and a lifetime member of Bayou Writers
Group in Lake Charles, Louisiana. Multi-published in romantic fiction as well
as creative non-fiction, her writing has been tagged as, “Inspirational with
an Edge!” ™ and reviewed as “steamier
and grittier than the typical Christian novel without decreasing the message.” Sign up for Pam’s Newsletter
and get a FREE short story! http://bit.ly/psthibnewsletter